


it's no secret

by dedkake



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Canon Disabled Character, Dancing, M/M, Mutant Rights, Secrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 22:12:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5265596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dedkake/pseuds/dedkake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik sees Charles at the gym and he can't get the image out of his head, even after he learns that Charles is The Worst Ever.  He might be a little bit in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's no secret

**Author's Note:**

  * For [paranault](https://archiveofourown.org/users/paranault/gifts).



> Happy Secret Mutant! Filling two prompts in one: dancing and keeping secrets. (thanks to my betas; ilu both)

The first time Erik sees Charles he’s captivated—confused and aroused and also somehow sick with guilt. He feels like he’s intruded on something private. It’s at least not meant for him.

The gym is dark at this time Friday night—the motion sensor lights dimmed in the hallways and side rooms. It’s the best time to come and work out in peace—and the best way to escape the chaos of campus on Friday night.

Erik is on his way to the pool, towel in hand, when he spots light pouring from the door to one of the open floor rooms. Normally he’d walk on by, but his senses have snagged on something in the room—something moving and metal—and Erik can’t help but peek in around the edge of the door.

There’s a man in a wheelchair, but he’s not lifting weights or stretching or any other workout Erik has ever seen someone in a wheelchair do before. He has his headphones in and he’s moving his chair and his arms in a complicated and rhythmic pattern that is undeniably a dance. It’s a stunning sight.

Charles is focused on the moment and doesn’t seem to notice Erik in the doorway at all as he twists and turns across the floor, every move precise and practiced, obviously designed around an invisible partner. Erik catches himself twice from stepping into the room and offering to take the place of Charles’ absent partner. He doesn’t know the first thing about dance.

And then it’s over. Charles stops moving entirely, one arm posed dramatically over his head, the other holding tight to one wheel. His back is to Erik, but Erik feels like he’s been caught anyway. Before Charles has a chance to move again, Erik flees, his stomach turning as he walks as quietly as he can down the hall toward the pool.

He tries to swim off the memory of Charles’ eyes and his shoulders and the feel of his hands on the wheels of his chair. He fails miserably.

-

The second time Erik sees Charles shouldn’t really count because he’s sitting in his dorm room YouTubing American wheelchair dance competitions and hanging off every second in hopes that he catches a glimpse of Charles’ face. He does. In several videos. That he bookmarks so he can go back to them later to stare at those beautiful eyes and obscene shoulders.

He just never catches his name.

-

The next time he sees Charles they’re staring at each other across the table at the campus Mutant Rights Association meeting. Erik’s never gone before because he’s too busy with the Brotherhood, but he’s sick of Raven telling him about it and having nothing to contribute to her diatribes even though he knows the MRA is dead wrong about everything.

But Erik almost doesn’t recognize Charles—his hair is perfectly styled instead of plastered to his face, which is paler this time, not flushed from exertion. Charles’ eyes, though, are just as blue and captivating in the dull light of the classroom as they were in the bright light of the gym.

He hates it. All of it. Especially the fact that Charles’ shoulders are hidden away under the frumpiest sweater Erik has ever seen. He hates the sweater vehemently because _how dare_ anything ever cover those shoulders—it’s not fair.

Then he realizes how creepy that sounds and feels a flush spread across his cheeks.

This time, aside from learning that Charles has a horrible sense of fashion, Erik also learns his name. He learns a great deal, actually. He learns that Charles is a bleeding-heart assimilationist and that he borders on being an apologist—which is unacceptable because he’s _also_ the head of the MRA chapter. Charles is rich and apparently a genius and his mutation is invisible and Raven spends half the meeting looking like she’s in love with Charles and half the meeting glaring daggers at him. (Erik tries not to feel sympathetic.)

Erik almost forgets about the dancing thing entirely. He _does_ forget about it, fuming instead about the audacity of the man and his privileged opinions. Until he reaches his room, throws open his computer and finds himself staring at an open YouTube video with Charles’ face grinning up at him.

Erik slams the computer closed, grabs his things for the shower, and storms out of his room.

Fuck everything.

-

The fourth time he sees Charles they’re causing a scene at Emma’s Halloween party. Erik tries not to fight at parties—his mother hadn’t raised him like that and the thought of her finding out makes him sick—but Charles is insufferable.

Of course, they’re not _actually_ fighting—his mother had definitely raised him not to hit people in wheelchairs—and although Erik’s seen those shoulders in action and is certain Charles could lay him flat given the right angle, he can’t bring himself to sink that low.

So instead they are shouting at each other which must look especially ridiculous because Charles is dressed as Harry Potter and Erik is wearing a cowboy hat and boots, because Emma had thrown them at him that morning and told him he would at least pull off Sexy Cowboy if he wanted to be at her party. It’s a shame, really—they could’ve both dressed as dancers in shiny, sequined suits.

Emma throws them both out, which should shut them up, but leads to another argument about who started it that takes them all the way back to Charles’ dorm. Charles keeps arguing as he lets himself into his room and Erik’s only option is to follow if he wants to get another word in.

After another hour he sees no option other than to kiss Charles’ mouth shut, either. It does the trick. And lands him naked in bed with Charles’ hand on his cock and Charles’ mouth pressed against his ear breathing commands for him to follow.

Erik learns more about sex in the hour it takes them than he has with his two exes combined.

-

The fifth time he sees Charles shouldn’t really count either—mostly because he’s never really escaped the fourth time. Except that they’d fallen asleep and now Erik is waking up on Charles’ bed watching the soft light of the morning filter through the blinds to shine on Charles’ face.

It occurs to him after a few minutes that he’s a giant creep and needs to get away for Charles’ safety. He’s spent the last month watching videos of the man on YouTube without his knowledge and now he’s sitting in his dorm room, where he was barely even invited, watching him as he sleeps.

Erik grabs his pants off the floor and flees.

(And maybe he lets himself think of Charles in the shower. Just a little bit. Definitely not his eyes. Or his voice. Or his stupid opinions. God dammit.)

-

Erik is determined there will be no sixth time, but Charles goes and ruins that plan spectacularly, nearly running Erik over on his way out of his Hall.

“Erik,” he says and Erik tries not to focus on the way Charles’ fingers are wrapped tight around the wheels of his chair because it’s a little too close to his memories for comfort.

“What do you want?” Erik snaps, weighing the option of going back to his room against moving Charles out of his way by force. Each will allow him to escape, but one will lead Charles right to his door (and wouldn’t that be a disaster) and the other will likely get him written up in the Dean’s Office before breakfast. 

So obviously he does nothing. It’s Charles’ move.

Charles stares at him for a moment, clearly not getting the picture.

“Well?” Erik asks, throwing all his anger into his voice, and is absolutely not startled or impressed when Charles doesn’t even flinch.

Instead Charles leans back and manages to look down his nose at Erik as if he’s a child. “You will either explain to me right here and now why you left without a word or you will take me to dinner and we will forget all this unpleasantness.”

Those are terrible options as well, Erik decides, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, and he wants them both. He wants to have it out with Charles here in the hallway where anyone and everyone could see and he wants to have a quiet dinner with Charles and take him home again and do all that cute couples’ shit.

They end up doing both.

(Erik still doesn’t bring up the creepy stalker part of their history, which is all well and good because Charles doesn’t bring up dancing at dinner, either.)

-

The seventh time is inevitable, but doesn’t happen soon enough. Charles promises he’ll call after their date and he makes Erik wait exactly three days (to the minute) before he does. Erik realizes he deserves the cold shoulder after running out, but it still hurts.

It hurts less when Charles spends the entire evening trying to find each and every one of his sweet spots. Or maybe it hurts more, but in a good way. Especially because this time Charles lets on that he’s a telepath and that opens all sorts of other doors. Definitely good doors.

(Except Erik still feels a pull of guilt in his gut when he notices that he already knows the exact way that Charles’ shoulder looks as he twists himself in bed.)

-

Eight starts with Charles rolling out of his building to meet Erik on the walkway, glaring up at him as he does.

“I wish you’d drop the whole mysterious secret act,” he says, taking Erik’s hand and pulling him alongside as he makes his way to the bus stop.

Erik’s stomach drops and he almost pulls his hand away. He doesn’t, of course, because he loves the way Charles’ hands feel around his own and he maybe wants this to work out and his mom is right, he’s got to stop sabotaging himself.

None of that stops him from saying, “I don’t have a secret.”

Charles pulls his chair to an abrupt halt and raises an eyebrow up at him. “Really? Because every time you look at me, your mind clams up and I know you’re just doing it to protect me from something and you’re so guilty about it that it makes _me_ feel sick.” Charles pauses for a breath and Erik opens his mouth to cut in, but Charles dives right back in.

“But really, what’s the worst it could be? I know it’s not a commitment thing. You proposed to both of your last partners and you dropped the swim team because the Brotherhood needed you more. You obviously have no problems on that end. So what is it? Do you steal things?”

Erik is staring at him, open-mouthed because what the hell.

“Your mother’s a murderer? You’re a secret agent investigating Xavier Biotech? You like to kick puppies in your free time? Do you have free time?”

Erik continues to stare and Charles glares right back at him.

“You’d better tell me soon or I’ll really start to blow this out of proportion,” he says, sounding almost bored and entirely too posh. He’s still holding Erik’s hand, his knit gloves warm and comforting.

“My mother is not a murderer, but she might murder you for saying so,” Erik says. It’s the first thing that comes to his mind and he’s pretty sure it’s true.

Charles grins up at him, squeezing his hand. “I can’t wait to meet her.”

Erik’s heart flutters a bit at the thought of Charles meeting his mom, at the thought of their relationship meaning that much or going that far. He wants it right now. He has to fix this. Or end it. He has to tell the truth.

“Charles,” Erik says, pulling his hand away. “I knew you before we met at the MRA meeting.”

A frown passes over Charles’ face at that, but he doesn’t say anything.

“I sort of spied on you. At the gym. Way back at the end of September.” Charles still doesn’t say anything, just looks more contemplative than ever. The furrow of his brow is distracting—Erik wants to kiss it.

“I mean. I wasn’t trying to spy, I just saw you. Dancing.” Charles continues to look up at him, expectant, and Erik feels his stomach twist uncomfortably at the thought of what he needs to say next. “And then I looked you up on YouTube. And kind of watched everything. A lot. Too much.”

The frown on Charles’ face is twisting and Erik worries for a moment that Charles will be just as creeped out as he has every right to be, but then he’s laughing, leaning over to laugh into his knees he’s so amused.

Erik scowls, his cheeks warming with embarrassment and frustration.

“Erik,” Charles breathes, catching his hand again, as if he knows Erik is thinking of fleeing. He probably does. “That was your secret? That’s what you wanted to protect me from?”

“It was creepy of me,” Erik says, refusing to meet Charles gaze.

Charles kisses his hand and Erik is forced to look, can’t turn away when Charles looks up at him again, eyes sparkling fondly. “I’ve never had a fan as devoted as you,” he says and then, “We’re going to miss the bus.”

Apparently it’s that easy for Charles to move on. Erik finds he doesn’t mind in the least.

-

The ninth time is almost like the first, but on a proper dance floor this time, with the music playing from real speakers and Erik standing at the side of the room instead of hiding around the door.

Charles is glorious, pulling Erik along with his mind as Erik follows every move of the chair, his fingers twitching with anticipation.

It’s over too quickly, but Erik can barely bring himself to mind as Charles pulls him down into a sweaty, breathless kiss.

-

Erik stops counting after ten.


End file.
